Sometimes I wonder why does my spirit slouch and call it a day, even before I’ve had a chance to get through my working hours. Or why do I give up because I get tired of trudging on? What about resting and hitching on to the ride again? What about that, really?
I like songs that are written to egg on persevering people and chanting that their hard work will bear fruit. Bollywood has a lot of these songs. And some International pop songs are such, too. Hall of Fame, anyone? “You can talk to God, go banging on his door.” Amidst the tripe that radio stations play these days, I heard some such song and I remember only one line vaguely – “Hadd se guzar jaana hai…”, which, let’s face it, is pretty much a commonly used Bollywood love line. But this song was about struggle and ambition, that didn’t involve stalking a girl and indulging in gandi baat.
However, I digress. I want to cross some limits after this period of fixing is over, or even when I am at it. Because I know that this is a phase of my life during which I am constantly fixing everything. I’ve been tottering around while R has been fixing this blog. I’m fixing my career. I’m fixing my identity. I’m fixing my views so that they don’t continue to be jaded. I’m fixing my faith. Above all, I’m fixing myself.
So when F asked me today if I had been writing my book – am i still plodding on – I replied in the negative and set aside the sinking feeling that generally accompanies such a response. I’ve come to fully understand that one can choose one’s sadness, just like one can choose one’s happiness. You can tell your heart, “Look dude, I can’t handle this pain right now. Why don’t you look up my calendar and we’ll be sad about it a little later when I can deal with it.”
I know this because I carry around a large hole these days. One that’s always there, while everything else around it is full of grace and abundance. If my life could be compared with food, right now, I would be a donut. While there are parts of it that are warm, fluffy, delectable, and gooey, there is a large hole that I cannot ignore. It doesn’t take away from the gooey-ness. It’s just there. And so, I wonder if there is this one hole that all of us will have and will carry around for a long time. That could be it. Or this will change and my life will become a blueberry cheesecake – soft, comforting, heavenly and perfect. Maybe it will.
However, for now, it’s about donuts. I’m doing the fixing. The writing will come. And, I will have crossed limits.
Hadd se guzar jayenge.